


Holidays for the Not-Really-Dead

by MarbleGlove



Series: Comment Fic [6]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Holidays, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:48:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbleGlove/pseuds/MarbleGlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite being obsessive vigilantes, they still have fun and enjoy the holidays... in their own unique obsessive-vigilante ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Christmas: Deck the Halls with Boughs of Holly

**Author's Note:**

> This story just got translated into Chinese by the wonderful Mia. Is that not cool? In order to see it, you need to register with mtslash, but it's available at:  
> http://www.mtslash.com/viewthread.php?tid=38233&extra=

There are two ways to watch someone in an unnoticed manner. The first and most obvious one is to hide: stay in the shadows and out of the subjects line of sight. Reese is good at this but there's a difference between good and god-like, and most people get that prickle on the back of their neck when they're being watched like this.  
  
The second method is to be obvious as all hell. The subjects see you, sure, but they stop thinking about you pretty quickly. Reese isn't as comfortable doing this, but he certainly can. And at least Finch's comments in his ear keep him from going absolutely crazy (crazier) as he's standing next to the door to the subject's storefront, dressed like Santa and ringing a bell for donations.  
  
Given that he's dressed as Santa, he feels it is only appropriate that he spends some of his time thinking about gifts to give away. Or at least, one gift to give the one person he to whom he wants to give a gift. (He's not giving Fuscu a gift.)  
  
Given that his credit cards and identity information all came from Finch, Reese can't exactly purchase anything in secret. Given that Finch also performs surveillance on the entire city, he doubts he could buy anything in secret even if he had a personal credit card not set up by Finch.  
  
The options are to (a) not give him anything, which Finch probably expects and that makes it all the more important for Reese to not do, (b) to buy him something and have it not be a secret, which really takes away half the fun of giving it to begin with, or (c) steal something, which seems like the best idea, really, but leads to the inevitable question of what to steal and from whom.  
  
The problem of who wants to kill a sweet little shop keeper gets resolved sooner than the problem of what to do about a Christmas present for Finch, but nicely it all works out.  
  
The guy who wants the shopkeeper dead has a rather beautifully decorated office, with a tree and lights and actual boughs of holly.  
  
The people he passes on his way back from completing the job all smile at him as he whistles Christmas carols, dressed as Santa Clause with a bag full of decorations and a tree over his shoulder.  
  
It's too bad he can't actually sneak down the Chimney into Finch's place, but the front door works just as well. And the look on Finch's face when he comes down the next morning is absolutely priceless.


	2. Valentine's Day, part 1: Sucker for Surveillance

Alicia Corwin is one of very few people who know about the Machine and her retreat to the one town in the entire United States that is not watched by the Machine is not unexpected. Even good law-abiding people don't like to be watched all the time.  
  
Harold is far from being either good or law-abiding but he doesn't mind.  
  
He walks the streets of his city and doesn't even bother looking for cameras. He uses a cell phone regularly and without fear. He knows he is watched every moment of every day and on good days it's something to be proud of and on bad days it's reassuring to know that something out there is paying attention. It proves he's real and not just the ghost he sometimes feels like. It's... nice.  
  
He sometimes wonders at his own odd mixture of paranoia and acceptance. He is a very private person, but he doesn't mind being observed, as long as it's passive observation. He doesn't like John asking him questions or trying to trick him into revealing more than he wants to. But surveillance isn't like that.  
  
In action and interrogation, John could completely overpower Harlod and Harold has had to nip off at the bud several interrogation attempts before they truly started. Now, though, John appears to be learning subtlety, although John's pet cop could use some extra training in remaining unseen. This kind of surveillance is much more acceptable.  
  
He does wonder, though: did John truly think he'd be able to use Fusco to run surveillance on Harold without him knowing? Or did he know that Harold would notice and decide to do it anyway?  
  
Because, if he did, what was the message?  
  
Harold doesn't want to take it the wrong way, after all.  
  
But...  
  
The stores are full of red roses and chocolates, lace and hearts. Valentine's Day is fast approaching. And Harold has always been a sucker for surveillance.


	3. Valentine's Day, part 2: Rabbit Garden

Valentine’s Day was a useful day for a spy and John had taken regular advantage of it in the past. As a personal holiday, it was depressing given his completely lack of personal relationships, romantic or otherwise. But professionally it was a free pass to act as secretive and as nosy as he wanted because people projected romantic motivations on what would be the most suspicious of behaviors on any other day.  
  
There was no number today, though, for Reese to take advantage of the leeway. But that just meant that he gave Fusco a day off and spent a day following Finch himself.  
  
While John was taking advantage of Valentine’s Day, it became increasingly apparent that Finch was, too.  
  
He was making trips around the city, slipping into and out of businesses by different doors, and John was hard pressed to stay on him.  
  
It was as hard as any surveillance job he’d ever run but also the one with the least pressure. If he got caught, Finch would call him on his phone to let him know that he’d been caught but there wouldn’t be any major repercussions, like a bullet to the chest.  
  
While Finch wasn’t likely to kill him, John’s own curiosity might well do him in.  
  
Also, it was a whole lot of fun.  
  
But, what in the world was Finch up to?  
  
A farmers’ market for fresh vegetables, a private butcher for two prepared rabbits, and a winery. If John didn’t know better he’d think that Finch was preparing to cook a romantic dinner. That’s certainly what all the shopkeepers thought.  
  
But John _did_ know better.  
  
There was no way that Finch had a romantic partner that John didn’t know about.  
  
No way.  
  
Still, Finch had apparently reserved the roof patio of a building that Reese hadn’t even been aware had a roof patio, and he’d lugged up a bag of charcoal and a cooler out to the patio by himself, waiving away the building manager.  
  
John half wanted to yell at the building manager for allowing an obviously limping man to do that, but half knew that if any building manager had ever tried to assist John himself after some injury, he would have been vicious in his rejection of the assistance. He also half wanted to go and help Finch himself since he could take anything Finch dished out, but he still wanted to know what Finch was up to.  
  
He started a small grill heating up, set a small table for two, and pulled out a small laptop computer and proceeded to work on that.  
  
Reese had been careful of his own position, so that he could observe all the entrances but couldn’t easily be seen himself, either by Finch or his eventual guest. He was getting impatient for someone else to arrive, but Finch seemed perfectly satisfied with sitting by himself at a table set for two.  
  
He thought about leaving his hiding place and keeping Finch company himself, but he didn’t want to embarrass the other man about being so obviously made to wait. Finch didn’t look annoyed, but he rarely showed much emotion anyway.  
  
By the time the rabbit went on the grill, though, John was furious at whoever was making Finch wait. He didn’t think too much about why he was so angry.  
  
Also the smell of grilled rabbit was starting to make him drool.  
  
When Finch finally poured the wine, pulled the meat and vegetables off the grill, and placed the dishes on the table, Reese had decided that he didn’t care if Finch got angry or embarrassed. Reese was going to have grilled rabbit and wine and follow it up by shooting whoever had stood Finch up.  
  
He carefully exited the nook he’d hid in, careful not to make a sound. He walked silently up behind Finch’s chair. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Harold.”  
  
And Finch didn’t even flinch.  
  
Disappointing.  
  
“Hello, Mr. Reese. Have you had a good day?”  
  
“I’m not sure I’d say it’s been a good day." He could hardly admit to having had a blast following Finch's convoluted way across the city, after all. "But I expect it will be a good dinner.”  
  
He sat down in the opposite chair and took a drink before Finch could tell him not to.  
  
Finch merely looked amused though.  
  
Reese took a bite of the rabbit. It was delicious.  
  
Finch was eating his own serving.  
  
Reese inspected the other man more closely. Definitely amused. Completely comfortable, too. He wasn’t angry or embarrassed or upset.  
  
“Why, Finch,” he gently mocked. “Was this all for me?”  
  
Surely it couldn’t actually have been intended for him.  
  
Could it?  
  
“Are you familiar with the idea of a rabbit garden, Mr. Reese?”  
  
“I take it you don’t mean a garden growing rabbits.”  
  
Finch gave John a small smile. “No, Mr. Reese.”  
  
“So, what is it?”  
  
“If a man has a large vegetable garden that rabbits keep on getting into, he can try fences, traps, and even poisons to try to keep the rabbits out, but they don’t work very well. Rabbits are surprisingly resourceful creatures.”  
  
“If you say so.”  
  
“So a smart gardener has two gardens. One is a fenced vegetable garden for his own use. The other is a rabbit garden, same vegetables, no fence, and the rabbits are allowed there.”  
  
Reese considered that and finally accepted, “You knew I was watching you.”  
  
“Surveillance is something of a specialty of mine.” Finch spoke dryly.  
  
And okay, put that way, Reese felt like something of an idiot.  
  
“And while you are relatively talented at it, Detective Fusco is significantly less so.”  
  
Reese actually winced at that. “You never told me to stop it.”  
  
“No, I didn’t. Are you going to?”  
  
Reese almost said ‘yes’ before even thinking about Finch’s phrasing. Finch hadn’t told him to stop it. Instead, Finch had grilled him a dinner of rabbit on a rooftop patio on Valentine’s Day.  
  
He wasn’t at all sure what to think about that, but he absolutely refused to feel anything like butterflies in his stomach. He ignored the question.  
  
“If this,” and he refused to think about what all was or was not encompassed in that “this”, “is a rabbit garden for me, isn’t it a bit ominous for you to serve grilled rabbit?”  
  
Finch smiled again. Reese was fairly sure Finch had noticed that Reese had avoided answering his question and found Reese’ nerves amusing. “I like rabbit.”  
  
And that was just as ambiguous as Reese’s own “this.”  
  
Did he like happy living rabbits eating vegetables or did he like eating roast rabbit himself? Well, demonstrably he liked the second, but since he was comparing Reese to the first…  
  
Reese really wanted Finch's phone to signal another number. Right now.  
  
It didn't.  
  
Finch went back to eating his grilled rabbit.  
  
Reese accepted the reprieve and ate his own as well.  
  
They ate in silence, but it was surprisingly comfortable silence in the chill air with the stars above and the busy city below.  
  
After their plates were clean Finch pulled out two containers of chilled mousse from the cooler. He finally broke the silence with a question, “Dessert?”  
  
“Yes, please.”  
  
And Reese wasn’t at all sure what he was saying yes to, but he was pretty sure that the answer was going to be “yes, please” regardless, if Finch was the one asking.


	4. Winter Solstice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the longest night of the year, in the dark and cold, Finch hopes for the coming days, Reese fears where he went wrong, and Joss has reached the end of both hope and fear.

* * *

**Finch**

* * *

Finch sat quietly in his library with a quote from Kahlil Gibran running through his head: “If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don’t, they never were.”

It wasn’t just true for romantic love, though, it was about partnerships and friendships, as well. And now Reese had gone, and while Finch had sent Fusco to check in on him, to ensure Reese was safe, or as safe as he ever was, Finch had no intention of trying to drag Reese back against his will.

Finch had already hijacked Reese’s life once. Finch had researched his target thoroughly before arranging their meeting, and then proceeded to push every button he’d found to make Reese into the type of hero that Finch needed.

And it had worked. It had worked for more than two _years_.

But now they had their first real failure, not due to a wily opponent or overwhelming odds, but because Finch had failed to live up to his promise to provide information in time.

In their first meeting, Finch had said that he would never lie to Reese, and then immediately lied by promising to always get him information in time to do something. And maybe Finch hadn’t meant it as a lie, but here was proof that Finch hadn’t been able to live up to his promise.

Well, Finch had done his best, but he was just a man, with all the frailties inherent in the condition and more.

And now Carter was dead. God. She was dead like so many others Finch had been unable to save, too late to save. But it was the first time that his had happened while Reese had been his partner. For the first time, Finch hadn’t been able to get the information fast enough to let Reese save a target already important to both of them.

Finch wondered who Reese blamed most for Carter’s death. Simmons, as the actual gunman, was clearly the target who would get taken down, but Finch wondered if Reese hated himself or Finch more for failing to protect their ally.

Reese hadn’t attacked Finch, hadn’t ripped into him for lying about being able to give Reese information in time. Reese hadn’t even acknowledged Finch.

Finch rather thought that was worse than any yelling or even physical attack that Reese might have been inclined towards.

Clearly Reese wasn’t used to failure of this nature. Not like Finch, who sometimes felt like he was all too used to failures of all kinds.

This was just one more in the long, long list of failures and maybe it was time for Reese to come to his own conclusions about his role in this life.

Could he accept that Finch wasn’t perfect. Or not.

Well, Finch had let Reese go. Now, it was just a matter of waiting to see if he would return or not.

 

* * *

**Reese**

* * *

Carter was dead. Joss was dead. And Reese was so confused.

She was _everything_ to him. He _wanted_ her to be everything to him. 

She _should_ have been everything to him and so he told himself that she had been everything to him.

She _had_ been everything to him. Right?

Because he had been suicidal and then she had stepped in and helped him and then he wasn’t suicidal any more. So she had saved him. Right? She must have been the one to save him.

And she was a beautiful woman, so of course he had to be attracted to her. Of course he was attracted to her. How could he not be?

But she had definitely been damn impressive. That he was certain of. Seeing her hijack that truck had been a joy. And setting up both the dirty cops and the Russian mob, both at the same time, had been a thing of beauty. He remembered grinning and thinking she was awesome.

Carter, no, not Carter: Joss. Joss had definitely awesome.  She had been so amazing in so many ways. Surely she was completely amazing in all ways.

She had to be.

Who else could possible be as amazing as her?

And yet, the more he told himself that she had been everything to him, the less he could remember any of the details of who she had been.

It was like loosing her all over again. He told himself that she had been everything to him and that her smile had brought brightness to his life. And yet, when he tried to picture it, she couldn’t quite figure out what her smile had looked like. Her voice had made him feel safe and yet he couldn’t quite remember what it had sounded like.

It was only days since her death but the more he thought of how much he missed her, the less he could remember her. And the more he hated himself.

Why?

Why did this have to happen?

 

* * *

**Joss**

* * *

She died thinking of her boys.

They were the most important people in her life and in those last few seconds, the only thing she could think about was that she would never see them again.

Her boys. God, she loved them. Her son Taylor was the joy of her life and her reason for going on. And, god, Paul. She had loved him. She had loved him and married him and born his child. And then she had had to push him away to keep their son safe.

She had done it, because she needed to, because Taylor needed her to, but it had broken something inside of her to do it. She had thought that she couldn’t trust him to help her, to support her the way she needed him to. But this time, he came through. This time, when she absolutely needed him to help her, to protect their son, he had come through for her.

Thank God for Paul. Thank God for Paul keeping Taylor safe.

Thank God for giving her her boys.

Her last thoughts, in that time between being shot and finally dying, were for her boys.

Prior to that shocking experience of mortality, Joss had been thinking about her boys Cal and Lasky. They were both dead—dead and betrayed, shot by dirty cops. Nothing she had done would bring them back, but at least she had avenged them. She had tracked down the head of HR and identified Alonzo Quinn. She had arrested the man responsible for her partners’ deaths and she had brought him to face justice.

She had been juggling what seemed like a thousand different details of the plan, had been terrified that she might miss something important, but it had worked. 

More than a dozen dirty cops, nearly two dozen Russian mobsters, and Alonzo Quinn all delivered to the FBI. It was a tough case—physically, mentally, and emotionally—but it had worked.

It was some hours back, while still stuck in the mortuary, that Joss had last given real thought to her boys, Reese and Finch. Oh, Reese and Finch. They were so good at being superheroes and so bad at being people. It was kind of ludicrous and Joss had not been looking forward to pulling out her old it’s-okay-to-be-gay conversation for John Reese.

If he needed to declare his love to a woman while in a siege situation, she wouldn’t deny him that until they were out of the situation. But, really? Come on. She had offered help to a lot of hurting veterans through the years, Paul included, and she knew when she had helped and when that help had been brushed off.

From the sound of it, Reese probably had been saved that day, the day he had met Joss and been bailed out of jail by Finch, but Joss knew perfectly well it hadn’t been her who had given him purpose. If he was declaring his love for her in the middle of a siege, she could only assume he was going through one hell of a sexual-identity crisis, most likely involving his older, crippled, somewhat nebbish-looking boss. If that was the case, he was pretty far gone, and someone needed to give him a reality check that he couldn’t force himself to be in love with someone more conventional. Either that, or a reality check about the fact that he wasn’t in the military anymore.

Maybe Reese would come to this realization without her intervention? She could hope.

But it certainly wasn’t a conversation that could happen in a siege environment, so she had put it out of her mind. If they both survived this, then she could look forward to having a super awkward conversation with Reese, possibly while being monitored by Finch.

Oh joy.


End file.
